


Courtship and Betrothal in the Wizarding World, A Matter of Tradition

by TaraHarkon



Series: Pureté et Honor : The Quintessential Codex of Wizarding Tradition [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Narcissa, Established Relationship, F/M, Malfoy Family, Other characters as mentions, Pregnancy, Ron Weasley Bashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-08 12:45:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4305612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaraHarkon/pseuds/TaraHarkon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco and Hermione have been courting for quite some time, quietly cementing a bond between them. When Draco goes to his father for consent for his intended marriage...things get interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jairephix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jairephix/gifts).



Draco could still hear the slamming of the door ringing in his mind as he sat on the edge of his bed.  
_"This is not the man I raised you to be."_  
 _"No, Father, you didn't raise me to be a man."_  
The photograph on his nightstand smiled, eyes full of tender love and flickering concern. At least for a moment, until she stuck her tongue out at him again. She had always been spirited. It was one of the first things that had drawn him to her. And when she had punched him in the face, well, then he'd been hooked. When the door opened, Draco's head snapped up and his hand went to his wand, half expecting to have to hex his father out of the room to avoid yet another lecture about his duty as a pureblood and a Malfoy.  
"My dear dragon, you never do things by half, do you?"  
"Mother, I can't help how I feel."  
"Nor would I ask you to. But, is this honest? Does she care for you as you care for her? Did you talk to her before you pulled that little stunt with your father?"  
Draco looked down.  
"I did, Mother. She said yes. And her parents approve, even knowing my past and...about Father and his part in the war."  
She nodded, letting a smile play at her lips.  
"Then, I think, that it is time for me to teach you how to handle your father, Draco."  
  
Narcissa sat on the bed beside him and picked up the photograph of the Granger girl...no...Hermione. She would have to get used to using the girl's proper name if this was to go forward.  
"In case it was not entirely clear, you have my blessing, dearest. From what I...overheard...from your conversation with your father, she is more than deserving of you, blood status or no."  
He looked up, surprise showing in his grey eyes.  
"Mother...you mean it?"  
"Would I tell you such a thing if I didn't, my dragon? Never even think it. Now, I think the first thing we should do is get her friends on your side. Unless of course, you've already done that?"  
"Potter certainly, Longbottom will take some convincing."  
"And Weasley?"  
Draco smiled slowly.  
"She and the Weasel are no longer on speaking terms."  
"Is that so? I hope you didn't do anything...questionable."  
"Certainly not, Mother. I merely pointed Hermione towards several muggle books on the topic of abuse. It only seemed fair, at the time, as she had been helping me after the war."  
Narcissa couldn't help but smile.  
"And it was an added benefit that this enabled you to be the shoulder for the girl you've fancied since you were a boy."  
Draco didn't respond with words, just a smile. Narcissa chuckled.  
"The blood of the Blacks certainly flows in your veins, my son. As if there was any question... But yes, to the task at hand. Has she been in association with your friends?"  
Draco's grin turned to a tender smile.  
"She's actually out with Pansy tonight. Pans is helping her relax while she waits for news from me."

* * *

 

Hermione drummed her fingers on the table and Pansy rolled her eyes, flicking her fingers at the server for his attention.  
"A G&T for my friend, if you would."  
He nodded, giving Pansy a smile he clearly thought was flirtatious and she winced inwardly.  
"But...what if he-?"  
"Alright, Hermione, since we're clearly going to have this conversation again. I want you to picture Draco, your Draco, recent last couple of years Draco. Can you imagine him toadying along behind his father?"  
"No..."  
"And do you honestly think he's going to care if his father threatens to...I don't know, disown him or something?"  
"I...I don't..." She paused, trying to arrange her scrambling thoughts and Pansy charged right ahead.  
"He's mad for you, which honestly is something, because I would have sworn he was all set to take it from Potter any day now..."  
"PANSY."  
"But seriously, it doesn't matter a bit what good ol' Luscious has to say. If you and Draco want to get married and go run off to have terrifyingly smart kids who will probably take over the world, then that's exactly what you're going to do."  
The server set the G&T in front of Hermione and tried to give her the same smile. She wasn't entirely sure how to react, but thankfully Pansy stepped in.  
"She's taken." Pause. "Though...I might have a friend who'd like to meet you."  
Several minutes later, with the server's name and number in hand and with Hermione significantly more relaxed thanks to her libations, the pair wandered out into the night.  
"So...who are you subjecting him to?"  
"Not subjecting...this time. Millie could use a date."  
"Millie?"  
"Bulstrode. You must remember her."  
Hermione blanched and nodded.  
"I remember...and her cat."

* * *

 

  
Draco apparated into the front entry of Hermione's flat and sat on the bench that was there to wait for her to get home, trying to figure out how he was going to explain what had happened, to explain the bitter rage and the tears on the his face, to explain the mad plan that was their best hope. After a moment, he stood and went to go at least wash his face so he would be presentable when she got home.

* * *

  
The last thing he had expected was for Hermione to be intoxicated. Though, on reflection he should have seen it coming.  
"Its fine, Draco. I know exactly how to keep her from panicking."  
Yes, this was definitely Pansy's doing. She could barely stand and it was taking all of Draco's will to keep from laughing as he helped her up to her bed.  
"You are utterly sloshed, aren't you?"  
"I am no such thing." She didn't notice the stress she was putting on the words, didn't notice the effort it was taking for her to keep her head upright.  
"I certainly hope Pansy didn't let you walk home like this."  
"She made me go side-along."  
"Good, good. Remind me to thank her later."  
He kissed her forehead and managed to navigate her into her room. It was times like this that he wished she had a house-elf. Chewing his lower lip, he spoke quietly.  
"Mappy, a moment if you would."  
His personal house-elf popped into the air beside him.  
"Master Draco is needing Mappy?"  
"Yes, please. Could you fetch some tea for Hermione? The kind I usually need after a night out with Pansy."  
"Mappy is knowing which tea. Is Mistress Hermione liking food as well?"  
"Just a light snack. And if it isn't too much trouble, could you fetch me a change of clothes for a morning? I'm going to stay here tonight."  
Mappy fidgeted nervously.  
"Master Lucius will not be pleased."  
"I don't give a damn what my father thinks." He snapped and then immediately regretted it as Mappy flinched. "No, its alright, I'm not upset with you."  
"Mappy will be right back with tea and snacks. Then clothes for Master Draco."  
"Thank you, Mappy."

* * *

  
Morning dawned to find Draco with his arms around Hermione as she slept. His clean robes hung over a chair and the smell of breakfast wafted pleasantly through the house. Draco snuggled closer against her, ardently refusing to meet the day until he had to. Waking would mean talking and that was the last thing he wanted to do right now. Hermione woke up to the smell of bacon and pancakes and sat up, confused and trying to remember what could possibly be going on. She was in her pajamas and she honestly wasn't sure when or how that had happened. Though, judging from the sleeping blond snuggled up against her, it had probably been his doing.  
"Draco, dear, who's cooking?"  
He snuggled closer, trying to pull her back down into the blankets.  
"Mappy," was his only response.  
"Draco!"  
He sat up at that, hair mussed and still generally groggy.  
"She likes to cook, you know that."  
"Still..."  
"Argue after we've had breakfast, love."  
She only bristled for another moment before kissing him.  
"You really spent the night?"  
"Of course, Hermione. Did you think I would leave you in the straits Pansy left you in?"  
She flushed and looked down.  
"I was a mess, wasn't I?"  
"You were out with Pansy Parkinson. If you had come home less than three sheets to the wind, I would have accused you of Banishing your drinks all night. I have only met a few people who can out drink Pansy and I'm honestly not sure that most of them count on the grounds of lycanthropy or giant blood."  
He stretched and put an arm around her. She leaned against him, sighing comfortably. Then she looked up.  
"Oh! Draco...what did your father say?"  
He froze, tensing up on the spot and looked away.  
"I'm...I'm working on it."  
"You're...working....He said no." Her tone turned flat.  
He looked up, alarmed, and quickly pulled her into his arms.  
"Hermione Granger, don't you even think about giving up. You are the girl who took more classes than there are literally hours in the day for. You fought Death Eaters. You faced down my aunt . If you can do all that, you can do this. Mother is on our side and she has...well...an idea. A plan."


	2. Chapter 2

Narcissa poured the tea and smiled charmingly at the young woman seated opposite her. If she was being entirely truthful, which she rarely was to anyone but herself, she had to admit that she had chosen this particular drawing room to see how the young woman handled herself. Of course, there was nothing left here to hint at the torture itself, the woman who had done it or even the madman that had driven them to act in the ways they had. But it was still the same room, the same furniture.  
"Cream?"  
"Yes, thank you."  
She passed the small pitcher over, noting with pleasure that the scars on Hermione's forearm were nearly gone. So, the cream Draco had spent months laboring on was effective. Perhaps she should speak with him about marketing it, but that was a matter for another time.  
"Now then, Miss Granger, -"  
"Please, call me Hermione."  
Narcissa smiled, only a bit surprised.  
"Well, then, you must call me Narcissa." She took a sip of her tea and looked the girl over again. "I trust that Draco told you at least some of what I wish to speak with you about."  
"Some...yes. Though, I must admit, he was fairly evasive."  
"You might be aware that my husband harbors some ideas that are rather old fashioned."  
The girl had the good sense to betray her inner thoughts with only a slight raising of her eyebrows.  
"Now, my idea, which I would of course want you to be fully on board with, and I promise you has a few ulterior motives which will become quite obvious, hinges on these beliefs." Narcissa took another sip of her tea and smiled slowly. "Tell me, have you and Draco discussed children?"

 Hermione nearly spat out her tea. It was only that she was doing her absolute best to give a good impression to Narcissa in what was clearly some kind of courtship interview that turned her nerves to steel and she kept her jaw clamped. She would really need to pick up a book on this kind of social interaction in the Wizard World and grill Draco on the customs she realized now she probably didn't even know about.  
"Wh-what?"  
She set her tea cup down, not entirely sure that she had heard properly.  
"I asked if you and my son had given any thought to the matter of children. It is a simple question."  
"Well...only in a theoretical sense. He did mention he would be expect to have an heir."  
"And I imagine you were intending on spending some time together before getting around to such requirements?"  
This was starting to feel less and less like a pleasant tea and more and more like an interrogation.  
"We hadn't discussed..."  
"Would you be opposed to having children sooner? Or at least one child. Perhaps...immediately?"  
Narcissa noted the growing discomfort on Hermione's face and continued on as though she hadn't.  
"Admittedly, this would involve ignoring some tradition...but I doubt that Draco would object greatly."  
Hermione looked like she might speak again and Narcissa raised her hand.  
"I have toyed with you long enough and I shall speak plainly. If you and Draco were to...ignore traditions about what is and what is not acceptable prior to marriage, and you were to become with child...then I do believe that my husband would have no choice but to accept you as a part of our family. It would be dishonorable for him to do otherwise."  
"You...you want me and Draco to..."  
"I merely suggest it as an idea for you and he to consider. Now, tell me about your work. I understand you work for the Ministry. Quite respectable." 

* * *

Draco paced back and forth in Hermione's living room. His heart was pounding in his chest as he glanced yet again at the clock. He remembered the first time he'd come here and seen the bright cheerful furnishings, it had been so alien to his dark world that he had felt like he didn't belong here, like he was somehow sullying it. Dropping onto the couch, he was seriously starting to consider trying to operate the muggle telly she had insisted upon when the door opened.  
"Draco, are you still here?"  
"I'm in the living room." He stood, coming towards her. "How was Mother?"  
Hermione stepped right into his arms, clinging to him and leaning against him.  
"She has a truly unique view of...I don't know...hospitality? Propriety? Friendliness?"  
When he didn't immediately respond, she kept going.  
"Really though, the whole place is improved greatly by the lack of overwhelming insanity."  
He caught the little note of upset in her voice and kissed her forehead.  
"Mother didn't..."  
"Oh, yes, she most certainly did. I suspect it was a test of some kind. I hope I passed, because now I need a drink."  
"Wine?"  
"I think I still have a bottle of brandy."  
He rubbed her back, trying to be reassuring.  
"She really made you have tea with her...in the drawing room? In THAT drawing room?"  
He tried to quell the anger rising in his chest, focusing instead on steering her into the kitchen and getting out the bottle of brandy she'd mentioned.

 A few hours later found Draco curled up with Hermione in his arms while the smells of dinner cooking wafted up the stairs.  
"So, love, Mother never did tell me. What was this plan she wanted to discuss with you?"  
Hermione sighed and nuzzled against him.  
"As far as I could tell, she's proposing that we guilt your father into consenting by having a child."  
Draco sat up quickly, grey eyes huge.  
“Wait…Mother said, _what_?”  
"She...well, she said that your father's sense of honor wouldn't allow him to let Malfoy blood be raised outside the family, basically..."  
"And what did you...say?"  
"That I'd talk to you about it."  
He ran his fingers through his hair, nerves evident.  
"But...we'd have to flout tradition...and-"  
"Speaking of tradition, we need to go to Diagon Alley."  
She sat up then, starting to get out of bed again.  
"Hermione, what? Dinner's almost ready. Can't it wait?"  
"I just need a book."  
“Oh no, no no no. I've been through this before. Its never 'just a book' with you."  
Turning, she glared at him.  
"And what do you mean by that?"  
He stood, moving to hug her tight.  
"I mean, love, that every trip we take to pick up 'just one book' results in several hours spent picking out at least a dozen books on the topic. What do you need and I'll find it after dinner? Honestly, we could probably just borrow it from either my family's library or the Black library at Potter's."  
"I...suppose." She bite her lower lip, looking up at him and he cursed under his breath.  
"Fine, fine, we can go to the store. After dinner. Alright?"  
Hermione gave him a big hug and kissed his cheek.  
"Perfect!"  
Sighing, he followed her downstairs.  
"What did you want, anyway?"  
"A book on wizarding customs and social norms. I realized I probably haven't learned the more complex and obscure ones. And I really ought to before I interact with your parents again."

 


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione hummed to herself cheerfully while she looked through the shelves at Flourish & Blotts. Draco was nearby, poking through the new selection of potions literature. With any luck, this time she would just find a single book on the topic, or maybe even none and decide she should just get the information from him and his mother.   
"Draco," she started and he looked up, wincing at the imposing looking leather tome in her hands, "does this one look any good?"  
" _Courtship and Betrothal in the Wizarding World, A Matter of Tradition_? Merlin, Hermione, could you have found a drier book? This should cover everything you want, and also help you sleep if you're having any trouble."  
Hermione shoved Draco gently.  
"Leave off. Is it accurate? Informative?"  
"Yes and yes. Or you could just ask Mother."  
He looked so very exasperated. She couldn't help but smile, leaning in to kiss his cheek.  
"I'm studying this so I'm armed before the next time I have tea with her. And anyway, it can't possibly be that dry."  
"Imagine reading _Hogwarts, A History_ , but in a single sitting and with no context."  
She blinked up at him and then smiled.  
"Draco, dear, I did that. Before first year, actually."  
His laugh echoed through the store and several other customers turned, startled by the uncharacteristic sound coming from the Malfoy heir.  
"You never cease to amaze me, my love."  
Smiling just slightly, she leaned in to whisper to him.  
"You know, dear, we could sew a little rumor to needle at your father while we're here."  
One arm around her, he let her lead through the store.  
"Are you absolutely certain you aren't secretly a Slytherin?"  
She kissed his cheek and picked up a book of baby names from the shelf.  
"Quite certain. Do you want anything while we're here?"  
He smiled right back at her.  
"Well, dear, since we're talking baby names...I'm going to go get a star chart."  
With a kiss on her cheek, he disappeared before she could ask why he needed one of those. 

* * *

 

There was a small pop as the house elf appeared with the morning tray for Lucius Malfoy. He was seated in the gardens, taking in a bit of sun before one of his many meetings. This was a bit of a change for him, but with his house arrest, all of his business meetings had to be conducted within the confines of the manor and this particular garden was as far outside as he was allowed to venture.  
"Tippy is having breakfast for Master Lucius. Tippy is being worried about Master Lucius, so Tippy is making eggs with toast and little potatoes. There is being tea. And Tippy is having the Prophet for Master Lucius. Is Master Lucius being happy now?"  
"I will be happy when my son comes home. But thank you, Tippy. This is quite lovely."  
"Master Draco is still staying with Mistress Hermione?"  
His jaw tightened imperceptibly and Lucius looked down.  
"Yes, he continues to entertain the idea that I would consent to his marriage with a Mudblood."  
Tippy tensed then, fidgeting from one foot to the other.  
"Mistress Narcissa does not like filthy word. Tippy will have to tell Mistress Narcissa that Master Lucius is still using filthy word..."  
Lucius glared down at the little house elf again, but refrained from comment. Taking a sip of his tea, he settled in to read the morning paper.

_A Malfoy Heir on the way? - Known swains, former Death Eater Draco Malfoy and the war heroine Hermione Granger, were seen in Flourish & Blotts just a few days ago acquiring what seemed to be a selection of baby name books and star charts. While this could be construed easily as a gift for a friend (after all, Miss Granger is still close friends with the Potters and the entire Weasley family), but one must recall that the younger Malfoy is related to the Black family by way of his mother and it is traditional within their family to name children using the stars. Could this possibly mean that the still unwed couple is expecting? We here at the Prophet have long wondered if this relationship would last, _could _last. Given the history between Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy, could they truly be happy together? (You may recall several letters to the editor suggesting the possibility of love potions or the use of Imperius) Armed now with this information, we must assume that the couple are in it for the long haul despite the lack of formal engagement.Could it be that perhaps the reticence is not on the part of the younger Malfoy? After all, did not Our Savior speak for young Draco at his trials, leading many of us to believe that the young man in question was perhaps a victim in all this? (page 10 - further speculation into what childhood in Malfoy Manor could have been like for this poor young man) Did he not tell us that Draco Malfoy is the apple that fell far from the rotten tree? Could it be that the fault lies instead with the patriarch of the house? Are Miss Granger and young Master Malfoy perhaps caught in a dangerous dance not unlike the Great Bard’s tale of Romeo and Juliet? Only time will tell, dear readers, only time will tell._

His jaw clenched, teeth grinding together. There was no need to read the by-line. This smelled of desperation, base rumor and abject slander, so it had to be Rita Skeeter. 

* * *

 

Draco ran his fingers through his hair nervously, reading through the article again.  
“You know, I think this might be the first time Skeeter has even managed to get part of an article right.”  
Hermione smiled at him over her breakfast.  
“She can do that?”  
“Apparently. I wonder if perhaps its a sign of the end times…or perhaps a sign that she has some horribly debilitating disease starting.”  
"Draco, be nice. It isn't nice to mock the mad."  
He chuckled and then slid the paper over. Then he went serious and sighed.  
"Love, we're going to have to decide what we're doing. Most of the magical community thinks you're already pregnant."  
She skimmed the article and then chewed her lower lip.  
"I did read through that book...and I know all this etiquette and tradition is important to you...but-"  
He had come around the table while she spoke and cut her off with a kiss.  
"My dear little Bookworm, if you're asking if I'm willing to ignore centuries of tradition to be with you and if I'm alright with having a child before marriage, the answer is yes. I just want to know that you're alright with it." 


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione couldn’t stop smiling and smoothing her hands over the slight swell of her stomach. The little bump had been getting bigger and bigger and she just kept finding herself with one hand on it and a smile on her face. She was also adjusting to having Draco living in her little flat full time now. Or more accurately, _he_ was adjusting to living in a house profligate with muggle technology and in a pleasant muggle suburb of London.   
“Draco, love, do you have the books?”  
“Right here.” He snuggled down into the bed next to her and put an around her shoulders so she could snuggle close to him. “But I had an idea, since we were talking star names first.”  
She rested her head against his shoulder and smiled.  
“Oh?”  
“Nox.”  
The lights went out  and then with a slight gesture of his wand, the stars from the map he’d bought flickered into life on the ceiling. Each constellation picture filled in and its name, along with the names of each star, wrote itself on the ceiling in Draco’s elegant script. Hermione let out a little gasp and kissed his cheek.  
“You wonderful man! You had better teach me this spell later.”  
“I will, love, I will. Shall we explore?” He rested one of his hands on her stomach. “Maybe this little one has an opinion, hmm?”

* * *

 Draco lay with his arms around her, running his fingers over the bulge of her stomach and marveled at the fact that their child was growing in there. Hermione was still asleep, a fact that he was doing his best to avoid altering since she'd been getting to sleep in less and less as their little one got more and more opinionated. Just the other morning, he'd woken up to find her on her knees in the bathroom being ill. That was when he finally convinced her to agree to have Mappy stay with them full time.  
 _"Its not as if she's mistreated, Hermione. And you know perfectly well that she enjoys helping, especially with a baby on the way."  
_ Hermione had only agreed after a conversation with the elf, but Draco had known that would be the result. After all, it was hard to dissuade a house elf from serving, particularly when babies were involved. He had a private theory that house elves had actually started serving wizards as a means to get to care for wizard babies. But, that wasn’t what he needed to be thinking about. He sighed a little inwardly and turned his mind to the day. His mother was coming over for tea to discuss matters before they all went to the Manor for dinner. A rebellious voice in the back of his mind, one that he noted sounded far too much like a Gryffindor, suggested that perhaps Hermione would have the good taste to have a bout of the morning sickness that had been taking her at all hours while they were at the Manor. Perhaps even all over his father. He smiled at the idea and Hermione made a little sound in her sleep, snuggling closer to him.

* * *

Narcissa eyed the electric kettle suspiciously for another moment and then sat at the table. Draco pulled out a chair for Hermione, making sure she was settled before he went to grab the little plate of hors d'oeuvres he'd spent the morning prepping with help from Mappy.  
"How have you been, Mother?"  
Narcissa gently set one of the little tea sandwiches on her plate and gave her son and hopefully soon-to-be daughter-in-law a smile.  
"Quite well, though I could wish the roses in the Lady Garden were doing a bit better. You know, Hermione, you really should come by and see it sometime. Perhaps when the blooms have come in the whole way."  
"I would be delighted."  
A part of her was still nervous at the idea of going to Malfoy Manor under any circumstance, but she did rather appreciate that Narcissa was trying. Draco was pouring the tea, or rather hot water from the electric kettle. Narcissa still eyed the thing like it might explode any moment, but she seemed to accept readily the idea that Draco hadn't brewed a proper pot since Hermione was off caffeine for the duration. Instead, she was enjoying a cup of something herbal. Strawberry to judge by the light scent.  
"Now then, Mother, to prepare you before we go and begin giving Father unholy grief, we have picked out a name already."  
"I take it from your phrasing that you intend to convince him you're considering entirely unsuitable names then?"  
Hermione grinned rather wolfishly then and Narcissa was struck, not for the first time, with the notion that the girl would have been an excellent Slytherin.  
"Oh yes, we've made a list of names we know should set him off."  
Draco chuckled, adding a spot of milk to his tea.  
"And really, Mother, you should see the list. I personally went through the Black family tree and picked every relation that would scandalize him. Then we chose a few muggle names."  
"And don't forget scattering in a few Weasleys."  
Narcissa laughed delightedly.  
"Brilliant, both of you. I do wonder, do you think he'll turn nearly so red as he did that time when you were three, Draco? You remember, when he found you-"  
"Mother! You promised!"  
Hermione, however, leaned forward excitedly. Another laugh from Narcissa and she was off describing how neither of them had been able to find Draco anywhere in the Manor and in the end, they'd asked the house elves where the boy was, only to find out he'd been in the kitchen playing house-elf the entire time.  
"Wearing a pillowcase and everything, the silly thing."  
Draco was bright red, face hidden in his hands.  
"Mother, if you keep telling embarrassing stories that you promised you wouldn't, then I swear I will not tell you your grandson's name."  
Narcissa's eyes went huge.  
"A boy? You're certain?"  
Hermione rested her hand on her stomach, almost protectively.  
"The healer confirmed yesterday. And growing just as fine as you please."  
Draco slid another little sandwich onto Hermione's plate, with a look that said she'd best eat it. Then he smiled over at his mother who was only managing to keep from demanding to know what they'd chosen through years and years of schooling in proper behavior.  
"Scorpius Vincent."

 


	5. Chapter 5

Draco’s arm was around her waist as they stepped through the floo. Narcissa had re-keyed the wards on the Manor some time ago so that Hermione could pop by any time without needing someone to let her in first, but she still wasn’t quite ready for that. The Manor held too many nightmares just now. Tonight was different though. Tonight, she was armored in the finest dress robes Malfoy money could buy, custom tailored of course, and prepared to do battle with one Lucius Malfoy. When they arrived in the Floo Room at Malfoy Manor, there was a house elf waiting to greet them. Hermione recognized Tippy immediately and knelt to greet the elf.  
“Tippy is wishing to congratulate Mistress and Master. We Malfoy Elves is being very happy to welcome a new young master or mistress soon.”  
“Thank you, Tippy.”  
“Where are Mother and Father expecting us?”  
The elf worried the bottom of her pillowcase for a moment.  
“Master Lucius is being very upset that Mistress Narcissa is having Mistress Hermione sit for dinner. Very upset. But Mistress Narcissa said Tippy is to take Master and Mistress to the family dining room.”  
Draco nodded and kissed Hermione on the cheek.  
“Don’t worry, love, that’s the smallest one. Its more intimate.”  
She squeezed his hand and gave him a little grin.  
“Just tell me it has something I can duck behind when your father starts throwing hexes at me.”  
Part of him wanted to brush it off, to blithely tell her that Lucius wouldn’t dare. At the same time though, he knew that Lucius Malfoy was not a man to be underestimated.  
“If he even so much as goes for his wand, you get him first.”  
That got a little laugh out of her and she shoved him playfully.  
“As if I wouldn’t. Honestly, Draco.”  
Together, they walked through the halls of his childhood home with the elf leading the way. Once again, Hermione was struck with just how stark the place seemed, how lonely it must have been for him as a child rattling around in these halls and formal sitting rooms where the furniture was for admiring and not for playing on. She rested her hand on her stomach, glad that their child would grow up knowing a very different kind of life no matter what happened. The portraits eyed her as they made their way along. More than one offered up commentary, with no small few disparaging her heritage and Draco’s taste in women. One portrait though, gave her a wink and a smile.  
“I always knew you were a bold one, young Draco. I remember her from years gone. Bravest girl I think I’ve ever seen in the scarlet and gold. Good on you both.”  
Hermione paused and turned to look at the woman.  
“I’m surprised to hear approval from anyone who’s portrait would hang here.”  
The dark haired woman laughed and looked somewhere outside the confines of her frame.  
“Well, I’m a Black by blood, so little Cissy insists they keep me hanging here. Even if I did marry dear Charlus.”  
“Might I ask your name?”  
“Dorea Black Potter, dear girl. And its been a pleasure to meet you, but you really ought to get going. Drop by to visit any time you like, though!”  
With that, she stepped out of the frame and Hermione turned to Draco with a surprised look on her face.  
“You’re related to Harry?”  
He just shrugged, still looking at the frame with wonderment on his face.  
“All the pure-blood families are related if you look, so probably somewhere along the way. I’m more surprised that a Black would approve of you.”  
She started walking again and shrugged with a humorous smile tugging at her lips.  
“Your Aunt Andromeda certainly likes me.”  
“She hardly counts and you know it.”

 

* * *

 

When they arrived at the family dining room, the first thing that struck Hermione was that Draco’s views of ‘small’ and ‘intimate’ must be entirely skewed. It was about as ‘intimate’ as eating in the Great Hall had been. The walls were decorated with all manner of awards given to members of the Malfoy family throughout the ages, including a large wall hanging similar to the tapestry she had seen in Grimmauld Place. With a bit of a smile, she noted that down near the bottom where Draco’s small portrait was embroidered, there was a small circle for her and another for their child even if they were still unmarried. Apparently whoever had enchanted the tapestry had been less of a hidebound fool than Lucius.  
Narcissa stood with an artful grace that Hermione constantly wished she could mimic. When she had been in school, such things had never mattered, but now with the circles she traveled in between Draco’s associations and her own from the Ministry…well, a little grace wouldn’t have gone amiss.  
“Draco, Hermione, I was starting to wonder if the pair of you had gotten cold feet.”  
She hugged Draco and then Hermione, real happiness on her face as she commented that Hermione looked well.  
“Honestly, dear, I’m jealous. I didn’t take to my pregnancy nearly so well as you’ve been. I spent most of it in bed too ill to move. Poor Lucius was reduced to playing my errand boy.”  
The man in question was still seated at the end of the table, looking dour even as Narcissa gave him a tender smile. The only greeting he had for the pair was a curt nod. Then he looked to one of the house elves and held out his empty wine glass.  
After an awkward moment, Narcissa gestured for her son and hopefully soon-to-be daughter-in-law to sit. Draco pulled out a chair for Hermione and she sat carefully. Then he sat opposite her. Narcissa was the ultimate hostess, asking well-informed questions about Hermione and Draco’s day to day lives and their jobs.  
“And tell me, Hermione, how much longer will you be going to that dreary Ministry day in and day out?”  
She smiled, taking a sip of the juice the house elves had been very certain to pour for her.  
“Not much longer, I’m afraid. Even just doing research is getting to be trying. As much as I never thought I would say it, having Mappy around has been a huge help. And she’s just so…happy.”  
Narcissa beamed at the young woman.  
“If you think she’s happy now, you should see her once the baby is born.”  
She had clearly intended to keep going, probably with some remembrance of a young Draco, only to be interrupted by Lucius.  
“Do you have a problem with house elves, Ms Granger?”  
Hermione turned towards the older man, steel in her spine and every ounce of diplomacy she’d mastered at the Ministry in her tongue. That he insisted on referring to her by her surname was something that irritated Draco, but she did her best not to let it get to her. Being perfectly honest, she had to admit that she would be more than a bit unnerved if Lucius were to suddenly start using her given name.  
“When I had thought they were being mistreated by wizard-kind, I very much had a problem with their enslavement. However, Draco has shown me that I was mistaken. I have gotten to know several members of your staff and I find them to be quite dear.”  
He made a humph noise and leaned back in his chair. Then he leaned forward again.  
“And what, precisely, do you _do_ at the Ministry?”  
His tone was dripping with condescension and Hermione rested her hand lightly on Draco’s arm to keep him in his chair.  
“I work for the Department of International Magical Cooperation, though lately they’ve had me doing desk work rather than traveling about.”  
That answer seemed to surprise the older man and he leaned forward, actually interested.  
“Is that so? In what capacity?”  
“I’m a diplomatic liaison, normally.”  
“I’m surprised they would put someone of your…temperament…in such a sensitive position. I happen to recall you having quite the sour temper when you were in school.”  
She bristled slightly at the comment and Narcissa stepped in, quickly changing the topic just slightly.  
“Hermione, are you planning on returning to work after the baby is born?”  
Hermione gave Narcissa an appreciative smile and then looked to Draco.  
“I am, actually. We agreed that I should be able to manage both, especially where my work normally just involves a few meetings as necessary. I shouldn’t have any problem raising our little boy.”  
She stressed the last word just slightly and Lucius looked up again, conflict plain on his face.

 

* * *

 

“A son?” Narcissa played surprised so well, thought Draco as he suppressed a laugh. “Have you settled on a name yet?”  
“Not yet, Mother, though we’ve been discussing a few. I, personally, was thinking that perhaps Theodore would be a good name, after my uncle on your side, Mother.”  
Hermione interjected now, only just barely keeping the glee from her face.  
“Oh yes, but you did also give that _Arthur_ was just a lovely name.”  
Lucius nearly choked on his wine then, utterly horrified, but he couldn’t get a word out before Hermione and Draco kept going.  
“It is, yes, or perhaps Alphard. He was another notable member of the Black family. Or after my godfather, Severus.”  
“There were also those muggle names we discussed, dearest.”  
Lucius stood suddenly then, slamming his chair backwards so hard that it fell. It clattered in the sudden silence just before Lucius spoke in a harsh whisper.  
“My _grandson_ will not have any kind of _muggle_ name.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

Draco looked up at his father, startled into silence. Before he could gather his wits again, Hermione had drawn a breath in that angry way he remembered from when her harsh words had been turned on him.   
“You…you honestly think that you have _any_ opinion when it comes to what we do or do not name this child? After everything you’ve done to try and keep Draco and I apart, do you honestly think that we have _any reason_ to listen to you?”  
“Hermione-“  
“Don’t interrupt me, Draco.”  
“But, love-“  
She looked set to keep plowing right over him, but he locked eyes with her.  
“Remember what the healer said, Hermione.”  
That brought her back to herself and she rested a hand on the swell of her stomach. Narcissa looked back and forth between the two of them, clearly concerned, but Draco smiled to allay his mother’s fears.  
“The healers just want Hermione to stay calm, Mother. You know how high strung she can get.”  
He said it tenderly and she just sighed, used to this particular line of teasing.  
“I am _not_ high strung, Draco.”  
“Certainly not.” He agreed, with a little nod, though his tone was still slightly teasing.   
But now that Hermione was settled again, the attention returned to Lucius. He was quiet, just sitting there watching Hermione and his son. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife and for a moment, Draco was certain that Lucius was about to draw his wand. Then the man put his hands both on the table and pushed himself to standing.  
“Draco, son, come with me for a moment.”  
Draco glanced at Hermione and then nodded, standing. Narcissa watched them go and then turned back to Hermione with a smile masking her nerves.  
“Would you like more of anything, dear?”

 

* * *

Lucius led Draco down the halls towards his personal office, his emotions warring within him. Not that anyone could tell to look at him, of course. No, his mask was as much a mask as the one he had once worn in service to the Dark Lord. But that was in another life time, wasn’t it? No longer was he Lucius Malfoy, proud Death Eater and right hand of the Dark Lord. No… He glanced at Draco who walked along behind him, just as proud, but his mask had cracks in it. The boy was worried. And for what? For that mudblood girl? About his half-blood son? About the future? Closing the door to the office, Lucius took a long moment to just look at Draco. Then he saw it reflected in those grey eyes. He could remember seeing that same look somewhere else, on someone else. How long had Draco looked so like Narcissa?

 

* * *

Hermione kept glancing towards the door the men had passed through, as though hoping she might see Draco returning any moment now.  
“Don’t worry, dear, Lucius may have an odd way of showing it, but he does love his son.”  
The muggle-born witch pushed her dinner around on the plate with her fork.  
“I know he must…but…Well, I suppose it’s just too much to ask to want to understand the man.”  
They both went quiet again until Narcissa broke the silence again.  
“Perhaps you should tell him the name you two really chose.”

 

* * *

“Draco, son, I need you to explain something to me.”  
Lucius Malfoy’s voice was low and serious, with a hint of…something…that Draco couldn’t identify. Was it curiosity? Interest? Uncertainty? Scorn?  
“Yes, Father?”  
“If you insist on setting aside every precept I ever taught you, and on turning your pack on millennia of pureblood wizarding culture… Then why cling to this one piece? Why not just go off and do what you want and stop waiting for an old man like me, hardened in his ways?”  
Draco was quiet for a long moment before he spoke.  
“Because, Father, I want, just once, for you to be proud of a decision I make for myself. Because I wanted to give you a chance to show that maybe you’d realized you were wrong. Because I thought maybe you would be willing to set aside the mistakes you made that almost tore our family apart so that I could be happy for once in my life. But apparently I was wrong.”  
Turning to leave the room, Draco suddenly felt a hand grab his arm.  
“This is what you want? _She_ is who you want?”  
“Yes.”  
“You won’t change your mind? Even when your friends from school turn on you?”  
Draco turned, steely eyes locking with his father’s.  
“Father, you’re the only one who turned on me. Even Goyle has treated Hermione better than you have.”  
That set the man back on his heels for a moment, but then he nods.  
“Draco, if this is what you want…then…yes, Draco. You have my blessing. Be as happy as your mother and I have been. And…I can promise to try and be better.” He looked away then. “I can’t promise I’ll change overnight. But I will try.”  
The younger Malfoy broke out into a huge smile and moved to hug his father. Lucius wasn’t certain how to respond for a moment, but then he returned the hug. When Draco stepped back, he was still smiling. 

 

* * *

When the men returned to the table, both looked far more relaxed. Draco didn’t sit right away, instead he stood behind Hermione with his hands on her shoulders. Lucius, on the other hand, took his seat again and had a sip of his wine as though nothing had occurred.  
“Feeling better, dear?” ask Narcissa, holding her glass out for the house elf to refill.   
“Much.” Lucius nodded to Narcissa and then turned to Hermione. “I should tell you, I gave Draco my blessing. This does mean I am happy to have you joining the family, but that I am willing to try. For reasons that I don’t understand, you make my son happy.” Lucius paused, looking at Narcissa once more. “And as he’s pointed out to me, I should stop standing between him and that. I’ve already done that to him enough in his life.”  
For once in her life, Hermione didn’t know what to say, she just smiled.  
“Love, let’s tell him.”  
She smiled leaning back against him.  
“Your mother was just suggesting that.” She turned to smile at Lucius. “We’re naming him Scorpius.”  
The man’s eyes shone with pride.  
“A fine name. And for the middle?”  
It was too much to hope, Lucius knew, for them to hold to Malfoy tradition. But when Hermione spoke again, Lucius was filled with a pride in his son and in this woman he had always considered so far beneath them that could not have been described.  
“Vincent.”  
Lucius nodded and then spoke slowly and quietly.  
“Scorpius Vincent Malfoy. It sounds lovely. Don’t you agree, Narcissa?”


	7. Chapter 7

“Scorpius! Wait for me!”  
The tall blond boy ran towards the barrier, followed after by a delicate blond girl and a small dark haired boy. The little boy was the one shouting, holding a pygmy puff carefully in a jacket pocket as he ran. Behind them walked their parents, one calmly pushing a trolley and one nervously excited to send their eldest off to school for the first time. Draco paused for a moment, watching as the three children disappeared through the barrier to the train platform and then smiled at Hermione.  
“I don’t know that the Professors quite know what they’re going to have on their hands in a few years.”  
She chuckled quietly and looked around.  
“You never know, one of them might decide to take after me instead.”  
As they stepped through the barrier, Draco was laughing.  
“And what? Spend seven years breaking school rules most of us didn’t even know existed?”  
Hermione shoved him teasingly and looked around for the kids. There they were, chatting happily with their older cousin Teddy.   
“And anyway, Scorp, you’ll love it there. So there’s nothing to worry about.”  
Scorpius Malfoy didn’t look worried, far from it. He looked like someone who’s finally getting the adventure he’s wanted. It was little Regulus that looked worried. The small boy was holding his older brother’s arm tightly and refusing to let go, his dark eyes watering. Hermione stepped up behind them, putting a hand on the shoulder of each of her sons.  
“Almost ready, Scorpius?”  
He turned, grey eyes bright and shining.  
“I’m ready, Mother.”  
Regulus grabbed him tightly around the waist.  
“Please don’t go, please? Please? Can’t I go too, Mama? Please?”  
Hermione knelt down and hugged her youngest, kissing his forehead.  
“When you’re eleven, then you can go to school. But I’m sure Scorpius will write you. Isn’t that right, Scorp?”  
Scorpius nodded.  
“I will, Reg. Every week and I’ll tell you all about everything.”  
Regulus still looked like he might cry but then he nodded.  
“Do…do you wanna take Bumper? So you’re not alone?”  
He held out the pygmy puff to his brother and Scorpius knelt down to look at the puff.  
“He’s going to stay with you, Reg. But…here, let me talk to him for a moment.” He leaned in and whispered something before standing back up. “He’s going to take care of you while I’m gone, alright?”  
Regulus nodded, a tiny smile starting to show on his face.  
“Alright!”  
Scorpius turned to his sister then, giving her a little shove.  
“You better too, Dorea.”  
She scoffed and shoved him back.  
“Of course I will. What do you think I’m going to do?”  
Draco watched for a moment before coming over to rest a hand on Scorpius’s shoulder.  
“Time to get on board, son.” Draco held out a hand with a few galleons. “Get some sweets from the woman with the cart. And Scorpius, remember what we talked about?”  
“I remember, Father. Make friends. I will. Promise. Honestly, you don’t need to worry.”  
A smile slowly crossed Draco’s face and he hugged his eldest son tightly. Scorpius would be a different kind of Malfoy. Draco was sure of it. He watched as Scorpius ran to get on the train and moments later saw him and one of the dark haired Potter boys waving through the same car window. Yes, Scorpius would have a far better story than he had as a boy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it. I hope you enjoyed this story. 
> 
> The younger children's full names, if you're curious, are Dorea Andromeda Malfoy and Regulus Theodore Malfoy.


End file.
